“What is the most valuable thing on earth? It’s not the Hope Diamond, or the National Treasury. It’s not a Picasso collection, or the Microsoft fortune. It is the wisdom of God, seen in the pages of your Bible. You’ve had access to it all along.”

“When I stop trying to create a life for myself, I find the life God creates for me. When I cease trying to make a name for myself—competing, grasping, pushing my way to the top—His name emerges through the actions of my life.”

“Librarians wield unfathomable power. With a flip of the wrist they can hide your dissertation behind piles of old Field and Stream magazines. They can find data for your term paper that you never knew existed. They may even point you toward new and appropriate subject headings. Their knowledge extends beyond mere categories. They cannot be confined to disciplines. Librarians are all-knowing and all-seeing. They bring order to chaos. They bring wisdom and culture to the masses. They preserve every aspect of human knowledge. Librarians rule...”

“You poke at evil with a stick," Valerie had said, offering chilling advice they'd never forget. "Never use your fingers.”

“People become librarians because they know too much. Their knowledgeextends beyond mere categories. They cannot be confined to disciplines.They bring order to chaos. They bring wisdom and culture to the masses.Librarians rule. And they will kick the crap out of anyone who saysotherwise.”

“Literary history and the present are dark with silences . . . I have had special need to learn all I could of this over the years, myself so nearly remaining mute and having to let writing die over and over again in me. These are not natural silences--what Keats called agonie ennuyeuse (the tedious agony)--that necessary time for renewal, lying fallow, gestation, in the natural cycle of creation. The silences I speak of here are unnatural: the unnatural thwarting of what struggles to come into being, but cannot.”

“For the last fifty years or so, The Novel’s demise has been broadcast on an almost weekly basis. Yet it strikes me that whatever happens, however else the geography of the imagination might modify in the future in, say, the digital ether, The Novel will continue to survive for some long time to come because it is able to investigate and cherish two things that film, music, painting, dance, architecture, drama, podcasts, cellphone exchanges, and even poetry can’t in a lush, protracted mode. The first is the intricacy and beauty of language—especially the polyphonic qualities of it to which Bakhtin first drew our attention. And the second is human consciousness. What other art form allows one to feel we are entering and inhabiting another mind for hundreds of pages and several weeks on end?”